


Three Men and a Hunt

by BardicRaven



Category: Green Arrow (Comics)
Genre: Conversations, F/M, Family Bonding, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 12:05:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5539349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BardicRaven/pseuds/BardicRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do three arrow-slinging heroes talk about when they have a gentlemen's night in?</p><p>Work, of course.</p><p>And women.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Men and a Hunt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arysteia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysteia/gifts).



> ##### A story for a story, I suspect (shhhh! Don't tell.), but either way, here is what came out of my brain when I insisted my Muse(s) help me write a story for your Prompt.
> 
> ##### I hope it helps your hollydays be just that little bit brighter.
> 
> ##### Happy Yuletidings! :-) 
> 
> ##### Yule-Goat-to-be-named-later

O>>>\-----------> O>>>\-----------> O>>>\-----------> O>>>\----------->

It was a rare night off and it had been determined that nothing less than a gentlemen's night in would do. After the inevitable comment about there being no gentlemen about so the three of them would have to do, arrangements had been made for Mia to look after Lian (the particulars were not mentioned, but Oliver knew they involved arrows and training he'd hoped his daughter would never desire, never mind pursue), and the three of them had settled in with their poison of choice and noshes all around.

Equally inevitably, the talk turned to work.

"I see you're still carrying that compound around," Oliver said to Roy. "When are you planning on getting a real bow?"

"If by real, you mean an overcompensating longbow like the one you have, never," he shot back smoothly. "Besides, I didn't hear you complaining when I pinned that mugger to the wall behind him when he was about to take a potshot at you last week."

"No, you didn't,” Oliver agreed. “And you won't. Still doesn't mean I don't think you shouldn't get a real bow, stop depending on all the toys." 

"Oh, that's rich," Roy snapped. "The man who used to carry anything that could be stuck on an arrow-shaft in his quiver is telling _me_ to stop depending on the toys." 

"You notice I stopped carrying them too, didn't you?" Oliver's tone was mild. Deceptively so. 

Connor heard the warning signs. Before things could degenerate further, he broke in. "If you two are quite finished with your ever-so carefully reasoned arguments…" Sarcasm, gentle for now, but he was prepared to do worse if it was what it took to keep this evening on-track. It had been too long since all three of them had had a break. He was not about to let petty bickering ruin it.

Although apparently, they had other ideas.

"No," they both cried in unison, causing Connor to roll his eyes, sit back, and drink quietly to himself, giving up for the moment and trusting Universe to keep the peace, since obviously his luck was not in his favor tonight.

But as Connor determinedly refused to play, the lack of fuel meant they let it go after a few more rounds of saying essentially the same things they'd already said, with slight variations for variety, each taking a long drink for emphasis as they were done with their turn.

The resulting silence caused Connor to emerge from his meditation, where he had retreated when it was obvious they were going to be going on for a bit. Quite often, it was the only way to deal with his father and brother-in-spirit without wanting to knock their heads against something, preferably something hard.

He supposed it was good practice for maintaining focus and the discipline to hold to the ideals, but he did wonder sometimes if it really had to be quite so hard.

At any rate, tonight he came back to himself to find his father and brother-in-spirit both staring at him intently.

"What?" he asked a little sharply. They had this way of getting under his skin, no matter how hard he tried not to let them, and no matter whether they'd intended it or not. "Never seen a man meditate before?"

"Other than you, not really," Roy replied. 

"It's a good practice. You might want to try it sometime." Connor was pleased that he managed to keep most of the sarcasm out of his voice.

"If I want to meditate, son, I'll take my bow and go practice, thank you." Oliver shuddered just a little at the thought of meditating without them. He'd had more than enough of that at the ashram. 

Either time.

Roy nodded agreement. "Sorry, Connor, I'm with Ollie on this one."

Connor sighed. Well, he'd tried.

"So, how's Lian doing?" Connor figured that was a safe enough topic. He'd never known Roy to object to the chance to brag about his little girl. Didn't this time either. 

Roy's face instantly softened, as it always did when he thought of her. "She's doin' great. Couldn't ask for a better kid."

"Especially considering all that kid karma you built up?" Oliver teased.

"I think I had help with that." A slight edge to Roy's voice said that he was not about to accept full responsibility for the mess that had been in their shared past.

Oliver shrugged acknowledgment. "I won't deny it. We both ran a little wild back then, didn't we?"

"We had our reasons." Roy looked away, drank. Oliver did the same.

Before things could get too dark, Connor said, "Mia's really picking up techniques lately. Did you see what she did to that target yesterday?"

Oliver gave a huff of exasperation. "I did. And just who's been encouraging her, as if I didn't know?"

It was Connor's turn to shrug. "Yeah, I've been encouraging her to practice. Why not? A woman should know how to defend herself. Not have to depend on having one of us hero-types around all the time."

"I suppose." Oliver replied reluctantly. 

Connor just looked at him. "Come on. You gonna tell Dinah that she doesn't have the right to protect herself? Oracle? The others? They're liable to kick your ass into next week."

"What's with the language? Aren't you supposed to be into non-violence?" Roy made the mistake of blurting out.

Now it was Roy's turn to get the look. "I shoot people with a bow, Roy. What do you think?" Connor snapped. In truth, it was the part of his beliefs that he had trouble reconciling with his desire to help and his abilities to do so. But he didn't need his mouthy brother-in-spirit to be pointing out the contradiction. He thought about it enough on his own, thank you. 

Roy held up his hands. "Pax. I didn't mean to poke."

Connor gave a stiff nod. "It's all right." 

They drank in silence for a while, enjoying the company for all their rough-and-tumble banter. 

Finally, Oliver broke the silence. "Actually, I've noticed that you go out of your way to avoid shooting people whenever possible." Connor shot him a look of surprised gratitude. Oliver shrugged. "Me, I don't care. I look at it this way - if they've chosen to cross that line, they've earned whatever's coming to them. Personally, I find a little pain to be instructive." He gestured with his drink over to where Roy sat. "Now Roy here, he's a father now. Feels like he needs to set a good example. So he'll shoot to pin, to disable without damage whenever he can. But you... you try not to have to shoot anyone at all. I admire that in you, son." He considered. "I have to say I don't really understand it, but I admire it."

Connor quirked a grin. "Thanks, Dad." He meant it. There'd been rough spots, no doubt of that, but at the same time, he felt so blessed to be given this new chance to work with the father he'd barely known.

And the brother-in-spirit he never had, save by reputation.

"And for the record," Oliver continued. "I know better than to even suggest that my pretty bird or any of her flock aren't able to take care of themselves or that they shouldn't be allowed to. I like my nuts where they are, and my bank account to have the number of zeros I expect." He took a drink in salute. 

"Amen to that." Roy joined him.

"Agreed." Connor added.

O>>>\----------->

And so the evening continued, the drink flowing freely and, for a wonder, the words flowing freely too, until at last Connor looked out the window to see the rosy pink of dawn.

"It's morning." He looked over to where Oliver and Roy sat, glasses empty at last, quiet now with the sheer number of hours spent talking and drinking.

Since he'd had nothing stronger than fruit juice, he felt rather awake, certainly more so than the two sprawled in the chairs in front of him. 

"Hey, guys," he called, loud enough to be heard, but quietly enough for the amount he expected their heads to be hurting. "It's dawn." 

Oliver woke, rose smoothly to his feet, followed Connor's gaze as Roy followed suit. "So it is." He gestured around him at the empty plates and bottles and glasses strewn around. "We'll clean this up tomorrow. We'd better go get some sleep. Crime waits for no-one, after all."

Nods all around, then, right before they all started to walk away, Oliver added, "I enjoyed this. We should do it more often."

"We should." and "Yeah." came from Connor and Roy respectively.

"All right then. We'll talk it over with the ladies, work it out." As Oliver herded them all out of the room, Connor thought that this family thing might just have a chance after all.

And for that, he was exceedingly grateful.

O>>>\------------> O>>>\-----------> O>>>\-----------> O>>>\----------->


End file.
